


Good Tea is Worth Fighting For

by OlegGunnarsson



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Leverage, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adventures in Planning and Zoning, Crossover, Fake Attorney, Gen, Legal Drama, Let's steal a Zoning Hearing, Magic Revealed, Nervous Alec Hardison, New York City, New York City Board of Standards and Appeals, OK Gang, Prompt Fill, Self Prompt, What Was I Thinking?, Zoning, with magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-02-15 22:13:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13040520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OlegGunnarsson/pseuds/OlegGunnarsson
Summary: The Deli down the street from the Sanctum Sanctorum makes a great cup of tea. When someone tries to shut them down, Doctor Strange drags Wong to a public hearing to help out.Takahashi Young's deli has been open for decades. Now someone wants it shut down. Fortunately, this is the perfect case for a team of thieves from Boston...





	1. Variance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doctor Strange drags Wong to a Public Hearing. Wong wants none of it. Magic ensues.

Stephen Strange was struck by how _normal_ everything was.

After alien invasions, terrorist attacks, interdimensional portals opening in the sky, and all manner of madness in between, the most remarkable thing about the people of New York City was that they kept moving forward. Perhaps they were numb to the insanity that was life in the Big Apple. Maybe it just took more to faze them.

But here they were, crowded into a meeting room at the City’s planning department, all manner of New Yorkers. Attorneys, business owners, angry neighbors - business as usual.

Of course, business as usual rarely applied to his life, these days.

Strange rolled his shoulders, stretching out to relieve some of the stress. It had been quite a while since he wore a suit and tie, and -  to his surprise - he found that he much preferred his cloak. There had been a time when the fit of an expensive suit would have been enough to set him at ease - but that, too, had been a long time ago.

Wong had not found his suit to his liking, despite the efforts of Strange’s old tailor. They had compromised on a simple tunic, giving him about as low a profile as he could manage.

“I still don’t understand why you brought me to this meeting.” Wong muttered, as they took seats at the back of the room. “I don’t even live in New York.”

“Yes, but you hate my tea. And the only place anywhere near the Sanctum Sanctorum that will serve tea that you do like is Young’s.” Strange nodded to the front of the audience, where an elderly Japanese man sat with his daughter-in-law and a man in a suit. “They have to expand their kitchen to meet safety rules. But the city won’t let them because of their location. So they have to come here and show that expanding won’t hurt anybody.”

Wong looked dubious. “And that is what you called a variation?”

“A variance. It means they can break some of the zoning rules.” As Strange watched, a young blonde woman walked up and leaned in to speak with the attorney. He nodded, accepting a paper from her. As she turned to leave, he placed a hand on hers - just a brief touch, but one that spoke of more familiarity than an attorney and his assistant.

“So what does that have to do with us?”

“Years ago, when the current Sanctum was built, a foundation for spiritual studies was established. It was little more than a way to keep the curious from looking past the front door, but it suited our purposes. The City doesn’t bother us, and as long as we don’t bother the neighbors, we can do as we like. But it also means that we’re property owners.”

“I don’t see how that matters.”

Strange opened the leather portfolio he carried, pulled out a letter. “The Sanctum is less than a thousand feet from the deli. When they asked for a variance, the city told us. If we wanted to object for some reason, they have to give us that chance.” Wong looked over the letter, as Strange continued to watch the Youngs and their attorney. The young black man reached up and scratched his ear, and from where Strange was sitting it almost looked as if he were speaking to himself.

Wong handed back the letter. “But we’re here to support them. So do we have to speak?” Strange kept his eyes on the attorney, but wasn’t sure why. Something seemed off.  “Stephen?”

“I don’t know yet. It depends on what the commissioners say.” The attorney scratched his ear again, and when he turned to the side, Strange clearly saw him whispering.

“Wong, could you do me a favor?”

“You mean, other than coming here with you and wasting an afternoon?”

Strange smiled. “If you want to keep drinking authentically brewed tea, instead of the garbage I make, then yes.” He indicated the attorney. “Who’s he talking to?”

Wong gestured with his hands, keeping them behind the seat in front of them to hide the motion. His skill was such that, when necessary, he could cast simpler spells without creating a light show.

His vision, however, showed him that the young attorney was speaking to four other people. One was in the hallway. Two others were nowhere nearby, and the tendrils of energy connecting them led through the wall and out of the building, somewhere to the Northeast. _Toward the Sanctum_ , Wong noted to himself.

The fourth, however, was sitting one row behind them, on the other side of the aisle. He was an older man with untidy black hair. Wong pointed him out to Strange, and Strange made a gesture of his own. The din of the room quieted, and the man’s voice became clear.

“You’ve done this before, Hardison. And this time you don’t need to win. You’re just there to stall, and we both know you’re great at stalling.”

Strange could hear the attorney’s reply. “Nate, this is different. I really don’t like being bait. This should be Sophie.”

The man in the audience - “Nate”, apparently - shook his head. “You’ve already been an attorney, you already had an alias ready. And this was a rush job.” The attorney turned toward them, glaring at Nate. “Just ring the doorbell. You’ll be fine.”

If “Hardison” had any reply, the gavel swallowed it.

“Good morning,” an older woman began speaking from the dais. She was seated at one end of a long table. Next to her was a recording secretary, already taking notes. Beside her was a man in a suit, probably one of the city’s planners. Five commissioners took the remaining seats. Three men and two women, dressed professionally but not formally, each with a tablet or a laptop in front of them.

“This is the New York City Board of Standards and Appeals Public Hearing for August 15th. Before we go into regular business, we have one case that has been continued from the meeting of July 25th. This is Case 2983-072-BZ, a request by Young’s Deli to expand their existing structure by 25 feet into the rear yard of the property, and to operate without the minimum number of parking spaces required by the zoning code.”

The woman looked to Hardison, who nodded nervously. “Counsel for the applicant will begin with a statement, and then we have members of the public who are entered on the list to speak as well. Mr. Miller, please come to the podium and state your name for the record.”

Hardison rose, buttoning his jacket as he walked to the podium. He had a sheet of paper in his hand.

“Good morning, my name is Joseph Miller, and I’m here on behalf of my client, Takahashi Young, the owner and proprietor of Young’s Deli. I have a brief statement to enter into the record.” When the clerk nodded, he continued. “Young’s deli opened 65 years ago. Mr. Young inherited this deli from his father in 1982, and has kept it running ever since. This deli has become a fixture of the neighborhood, and at lunchtime you’d have a hard time finding a seat at the counter.”

“Now Mr. Young wants to expand his kitchen, so he can keep serving the community. The rear variance allows him to build that addition behind the building, in an area that isn’t accessible to cars and can’t really be used for anything else. The maps we’ve provided show that there is still plenty of room between his building and adjacent structures.”

Strange listened, but watched Nate. As Hardison spoke, Strange realized that Nate had probably written his statement. _So if Hardison is bait, then who are they hoping to catch?_

“Mr. Young does not have the room to add parking. We’ve provided charts for the last month, however, that show sales by customer. For the most part, Young’s customers are walk-up customers. They rarely get vehicles. Further, they are not adding any customer seating, so the additional parking requirement is unnecessary - they aren’t planning to serve more people.”

“We believe these variances, if granted, would serve to benefit the neighborhood by allowing this business to continue operating for another 65 years. Thank you.” With that, Hardison handed the paper to the clerk and sat down.

Strange saw Nate looking around the room, watching to see who moved next.

The clerk made a notation on her laptop, then spoke. “Thank you, Mr. Miller. At this time the commission will entertain comments from the public. I have a Mr. Doug Roth?”

A man in the front row stood and walked to the podium. He wore an expensive Italian suit, and brought no notes. On his wrist he wore an ornate watch, gold in color, with red jewels inset in the band.

“Thank you, members of the commission. My name is Doug Roth, and I am an attorney representing several nearby property owners, mostly along Bleeker Street. My clients oppose the granting of the proposed variances, due to the numerous code violations at the site.” Now Mr. Roth was fidgeting with his watch, as if he were winding it.

Strange felt the force pushing against his shields. If he had expected to encounter magical forces this afternoon, he would have kept an active shield at the ready. Most days, his reflexes were good enough - and today they served him well. Strange had protected himself from the spell even before he realized there had been a spell at all.

Wong, he could see, had done the same. They looked at each other, then at Mr. Roth. The attorney was continuing to speak.    

“The Youngs have had visits from the health department on 24 separate occasions over the past two years. They have had complaints about the quality of the food served, the cleanliness of the kitchen, and the condition of the exterior of the site. These are not people we should trust to expand their business. We would just get more of the same.”

“My clients recommend that the commission deny the requested variances. That this would lead the business to shut its doors is unfortunate, but perhaps necessary. Thank you.”

As the attorney sat down, Strange heard Nate speaking in urgent, hushed whispers. “Hardison?”

Hardison was speaking to Mr. Young, and his voice had a more-in-sorrow-than-in-anger sort of tone. “I’m your attorney, Mr. Young, why weren’t you honest with me?”

Wong leaned over. “Whatever that was, they believed whatever he said. Look.” And Strange saw the commission members shaking their heads, as if they too had been misled by the Youngs.

Mr. Young didn’t even dispute the facts Roth had presented. He just sat there in shock, unsure what to do.

“I have a Mr. Jordan entered to speak?” The Clerk looked about the room.

A man in the center of the room stood. “If what that attorney said is true, then I don’t have anything to say. But I can tell you this - I’m never setting foot in that deli again.” The man took his seat. Nate continued to try to get Hardison’s attention.

“And I have a Mister… Strange?”

“Doctor,” he replied, almost without thinking.

“What are you going to do?” whispered Wong.

“There’s more to this than a deli. That was a powerful spell. I’m going to try to stall - be alert.” Strange rose and walked to the podium. Nate was talking to someone named Parker, but Strange couldn’t hear what they said as he walked to the front of the room.

He got a good look at Hardison, and saw that the man wanted nothing more than to leave. His demeanor was the complete opposite of his presentation not five minutes before. Strange looked back at Wong, and then at Nate. It wasn’t obvious from their seats, but from the podium Strange saw that Nate was directly behind Wong.

 _Our shields must have blocked the effect from hitting him_ , Strange thought. _No wonder he’s in a panic. His man flipped like a switch and he doesn’t know why._  

“Thank you, members of the commission. My name is Doctor Stephen Strange, and I reside on  Bleecker Street - though I am not one of Mr. Roth’s clients. I’ve been a patron of Young’s for the past few years, and have never had reason to question the quality of their work or the cleanliness of their facilities.”

Strange made a show of looking at Mr. Young sadly. “Until today, that is. I am shocked at the allegations against Mr. Young, and equally shocked that they were not made a part of the record.” He kept his hands folded on the podium, and hoped that Roth didn’t notice the small hand gesture he made. When he saw the older commissioner on the left blink at him, he knew it had worked.

“Therefore, I would ask that the commission table this request until the Department of Health can enter their findings into the record. If Mr. Young runs his business in compliance with the law, then he should be allowed to continue to do so. And if he does not, then he needs to be shut down as quickly as possible. Thank you.”

The commissioner signaled to the clerk. “Point of order. I’d like to thank Dr. Strange for his thoughtful comments. He’s right, we should have more information. I move we table this request until next week’s meeting.”

The other commissioners nodded, and one seconded the motion. The Clerk declared the application tabled, and called a recess. Roth got up and walked to the exit, dialing a number on his phone. Wong stood and moved toward the same exit - he wanted to see if he could detect anything about the jeweled watch.

Strange, meanwhile, walked over to Nate. “Your attorney seems to have had second thoughts.”

Nathan Ford looked up. “He’s not my attorney. He works for Mr. Young, I believe.” The man was guarded, continuing to play his role. Strange took a seat nearby.

“Mr. Young would be lucky to have such a skilled attorney. Where did Mr. Hardison study law?”

Nate gave him a cold stare, assessing him anew. “What do you want?”

"I want Mr. Young to keep making the best cup of tea in the village. Since his attorney works for you, it would appear that we are on the same side." Strange held out his hand. “Stephen Strange.”

Nate returned the handshake, cautiously. “Nathan Ford.”

Strange tried to put the man at ease. “Mr. Ford, every restaurant in the city has had 24 inspections in the past 2 years. The health department comes by once a month, at a minimum. And I’ll bet if you look, you’ll find a sudden spike in complaints about Young’s. Probably over, say, the last three weeks? Since this case was filed?”

“There was nothing online. We checked.”

“Yes, but paper complaints are only scanned once a month. They wouldn’t show up yet.” Strange nodded to the exit, where Wong was reentering. Wong nodded back - he had found something.

“Everything Mr. Roth said was true, mostly. The trick is that everyone in the room accepted it as gospel. And with the spin he gave it, they assume the worst.” Nodding at Hardison, who remained in his seat, Strange continued. “Even your man was convinced.”

Nate looked at Hardison, and continued to watch him as he spoke. “How’d he manage that, Mr. Strange?”

“Doctor.” Strange replied, smiling.

“Fine, Doctor. How did an attorney do that to everyone except you and I?”

“Mr. Ford, what do you know about magic?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's not really a good or believable way to express where in the hell this prompt came from, except to note that alcohol may have been involved. And a bet. And an actual City Planner. 
> 
> Someone owes me $20.
> 
> Feedback, as always, is welcome.


	2. Easement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Leverage team quickly learns how much they didn't know about the situation. Parker learns a new method for lockpicking.

Eliot Spencer didn’t even attempt to look like he was working on the laptop. 

He hadn’t wanted to bother with it, if he wasn’t going to use it - but Hardison had insisted. He wanted the laptop connected to their system, so that he could tap into the deli’s cameras without a physical connection. They knew that the building was being watched, so putting additional equipment in was out of the question. 

So Eliot got to sit in the back of the deli, a stack of textbooks on his left, and an unused laptop on his right, sipping tea and acting like a grad student who just needed a quiet spot to work. And if anyone decided to take advantage of the zoning hearing to cause trouble, well - he could handle that too.

He was leaning back in his chair, pretending to read as he watched customers wandering in and out. His comms gave him audio from the hearing, but the legalese planning and zoning doubletalk was easily tuned out. Nate and Hardison had the meeting itself under control, and if they could convince the board to just agree with the Youngs’ request, that would likely be the end of it. 

But the idea of a variance wasn’t Mr. Young’s. Hardison had found a shell corporation that had bought several buildings next to the deli, quietly and for twice what the buildings were worth. When a woman approached the Youngs with an offer, they politely declined. The deli had been in the family for two generations, and Beth Young - who was learning the business from her father-in-law - hoped to make it three.

A week later, the customer complaints had begun. College-aged customers, visiting for the first time, suddenly had all sorts of problems with the food, or the prices, or the building itself. They would make demands and then storm out, each swearing to complain to the city. When Hardison had shown them the video, it had looked like they were following a script. 

And they were. One had gotten impatient, and called their handler before leaving the property. Hardison got the entire exchange - the complainer called to say that “It was done” and asked when he would get paid. 

Nate laid it out this way - if the business gets shut down, then the Youngs have no money coming in. Nothing to pay down the loans they took out to buy new equipment, nothing to pay taxes on the building, nothing to pay themselves. They would almost have to accept whatever offer they get to sell - and that offer would be pennies, because the new owner would have to fix whatever excuse was found to shut them down in the first place. 

The buyers could bribe whoever they wanted at the health department - having an official recognition from a city board that the deli was clean and well run would go a long way to appealing or preventing a closure. It would also create an official record that would make it hard to argue that the business was a detriment to the neighborhood. 

So Nate looked at their plan of attack, and made Hardison put on a suit to go block it. 

But they still did not know who was behind the buyers - which is where Parker was supposed to come in. Eliot listened to their exchange, right before the meeting. When Doug Roth walked in, claiming to be the attorney for “the neighborhood”, Parker looked him up. Conveniently, he had offices a block away from the Planning Department. So, while Hardison gave his presentation, Parker was delivering flowers to Roth’s law office, and then getting lost on her way out. 

Eliot glanced over to the far corner of the deli, where Sophie was calmly reading a novel and sipping her tea ( _ “...which is really quite good tea for New York, I have to say…”).  _ She was not, strictly speaking, on-duty - there was not a role for her to play in this particular con. The application and the variance were all legitimate, if approved. But if the buyer’s group decided to go to their plan B, Nate had wanted to make sure they had a plan B of their own. 

Give Sophie a script, and she was… passable. But give her five minutes to create a character and room to run it however she liked, and she was magnificent. 

Once Hardison finished his speech, Eliot listened to the opposing attorney.  _ He sounds like a suit, alright _ , he thought. It was standard stuff - they had planned for the health complaints, though nothing had been filed yet. The other criticisms weren’t worth considering, they were just empty comments. 

So Hardison’s disappointment was a shock. “I’m your attorney, Mr. Young, why weren’t you honest with me?” Eliot and Sophie looked at each other, eyes wide.

“Hardison?” Nate asked over comms, and now Sophie’s look of surprise just grew.  _ He doesn’t know what happened. _

The hearing continued, but Nate sounded increasingly desperate - rare indeed was the job that got entirely out of control, but it seemed from Nate’s voice that Hardison had gone off the reservation. 

“Dammit, Hardison,” Eliot muttered to himself. Sophie had picked up her tea and walked over to his corner, sitting down at the adjacent table. They were the only two customers seated in the deli. As he looked at her, he could tell that she, too, had no idea what was going on. 

 

\-----

 

Parker had no idea what was going on.

Her earpiece was off and in her pocket, just in case - she needed to be quiet, and even the voice in her ear could be heard in an empty office. And, to her surprise, that’s what Roth’s office was. 

His law office had three attorneys. The other two seemed normal - each employed a secretary and a paralegal, and their offices were filled with the usual leather-bound books of law and precedent, the file cabinets stretching down hallways, and so on. Roth had only a secretary, and she was out sick. So there was no one to tell her that she couldn’t put these flowers on the man’s desk. 

Except for the fact that he had no desk. Nor did he have files, or books, or shelves, or anything. Just a light, a carpeted floor, and a window. Parker looked at the light switch, and saw a thin layer of dust - which, when combined with the smell of paint and the like-new carpet, told her that no one ever came into this office.

So who the hell was Doug Roth, Attorney?

Other than the name on the door, and the business cards at the front desk, the only evidence they had that this man existed was the fact that he was standing in front of Hardison right now, speaking to the zoning board. As Parker walked into the street, she put in her earpiece - just in time to hear the panic in Nate’s voice. 

She hurried to the corner, crossing the intersection. Parker could hear someone else talking, agreeing with Roth that the deli had lost his business. Hardison was silent, which bothered her more than Nate’s reaction. 

She was in the lobby when Mister - no, Doctor - Strange finished speaking. The board voted to table the application, and the hearing ended. She waited, thumbing through a stack of zoning maps, and watched as Roth walked out of the meeting room. The attorney walked down the hall, away from the exit. 

Parker followed him, looking at her own phone as she did so. He might notice her, but why would he give a confused young woman looking for the correct office in a dull government building anything more than a moment’s consideration? Not being seen was tricky - being seen and disregarded was safer. 

She heard footsteps behind her, which made sense if the hearing had just ended. The staff, certainly, would go deeper into the building. Parker kept her eyes on Roth, who was on his phone now. Though Parker was not close enough to hear everything that was said, she did catch Roth saying “It doesn’t matter, I’ll be there shortly.”

Then the attorney turned and walked into an office. Unlike the other offices in this hallway, the door he had entered had no window. She heard the click of a lock as the door shut. Approaching the door, she continued to look at her phone - hopefully, the man behind her would keep walking past, allowing her to figure out what to do now once he was gone. 

The man did not walk past, however. She looked over at him, and saw an Asian man wearing what looked like a cross between a monk’s robe and a suit. The man was looking at the door, concern on his face. He tried the handle. 

“It’s locked,” she said, without thinking. 

He looked at her, then looked at the lock and held out his right hand. He made a twisting motion, and a dull orange light came from the keyhole. Again Parker heard a click. Then she heard a clatter from behind the door, as if a shelf had fallen down. 

The man reached over and tried the handle again. To Parker’s surprise, it opened. 

“Not anymore,” He said, amusement in his voice. The look on his face remained serious, and the contents of the office did nothing to relieve his tension. 

Parker looked past him, and saw that the office was actually a supply closet. One shelf had been emptied of its contents, which explained the noise she had heard. In the center of the room, she saw several glowing embers, fading as she watched. 

Of Doug Roth, Attorney, they found no sign. 

“How did you…?” Her voice trailed off as she got a good look at the man. He seemed confident and skilled, but annoyed in an I’m-not-supposed-to-be-here-today sort of manner. His clothes were out of place in New York City, but not outrageously so - again, this being New York City. 

Now the man smiled. “I asked the lock to open, and it did.” 

_ “What do you want?”  _ she heard Nate asking, over comms. She did not see Wong’s head incline in the direction of the hearing room. 

He started walking toward the hallway, and Parker had to step out of his way to let him pass. Then she took another look at the storage room, before heading back toward Nate. 

 

\-----

 

You never know everything about your mark, Nate Ford reasoned. 

The difference between a clever con and a successful con is the time beforehand, when you learn about your mark and find his weaknesses. If you know what his goals are, you can deny them. If you know his plans, you can disrupt them. Eventually, you find his pressure points - and then you apply the proper leverage. 

Every now and again, there is some factor that changes the game. A hostage, some sort of deadline, or simply an impatient mark. With a good team, you can work around that. And Nate Ford had the best team. 

_ How the hell do you plan around magic? _ He asked himself. 

Doctor Strange, the man had called himself. Hardison had remarked on the name, when they were looking at the surrounding properties in the neighborhood. He had been a surgeon, and now worked for a foundation a block away from the deli. “East Asian Spiritual Studies,” the paperwork had said. It didn’t seem like anything relevant to the plan, so they had dismissed it and moved on. 

And now, as Nate watched, this Doctor Strange was slowly waving his hand in front of Hardison’s face. The younger man blinked, then shook his head, as if waking from a dream. He looked around, then saw Nate.

“What in the hell?” He looked at the man in the suit, next to him. “Who are you?” 

Strange looked him in the eye. “You’re going to feel disoriented, that’s normal. Just relax. The feeling will pass.” 

Another man walked up, and Nate recognized him as the one who had been sitting with Strange during the hearing. Behind him, Parker emerged from the hallway, and Nate saw that she had a bewildered look on her face. 

“Roth is gone.” Wong said, simply. 

Nate’s eyes met Parker’s, as she walked up. She shook her head. “I’ve already been to his office. It’s empty, not even furniture.” 

“He’s a real attorney, we checked that before the hearing.” Nate said, more to himself than anyone. “So what is he up to, then?” 

Hardison was fed up, at this point. “Hold on, will someone tell me what the hell is going on here?” 

Strange smiled at him, and Nate recognized the Doctor’s demeanor - he was treating it like a consult. “After you gave your speech, Mr. Roth got up and used magic to convince everyone in the room that what he said was the absolute truth. When I spoke, I reversed the effect enough, for the commissioners at least, to stall. And then Roth walked into a closet and vanished into thin air.” 

Hardison processed this. “And who in the hell are you?” 

“Doctor Stephen Strange,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m the sorcerer who lives down the street from the deli. Mr. Wong, here,” he continued, indicating his colleague, “is a sorcerer as well. He is a fan of Mr. Young’s tea, and we came to the hearing hoping to help.” 

“You did,” said Nate. “But now we need to figure out who Roth is and why he’s after the Youngs.” 

Strange turned to him. “I think we can help with that.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much of this overlaps with the previous chapter, but I wanted to look at it from Leverages perspective. I've extended this in my outline, but we're still only looking at 5 to 7 chapters - for now.
> 
> Feedback is always welcome. Thank you again for your comments!


	3. Interior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team reunites at the Deli, where Doctor Strange makes a discovery. Eliot finds magic incredibly annoying, while Hardison can't even. Nate says the thing, to mixed results.

The chatter over their comms started to make less and less sense, as Eliot looked at Sophie. Her expression showed the same worry that undoubtedly was on his face as well. They couldn’t tell if the team was in trouble, or if they were just making a change in plans. Neither of them could remember a job that had gone exactly to plan, with or without their team. 

In their line of work, you either adapted to the situation, or you found another line of work. 

“Eliot, is there anyone in the deli?” Nate asked, over comms. 

Eliot looked around, confirming that he and Sophie were the only people in the room. “Just us, Nate.” 

“What about the staff?” 

Sophie turned and looked at the counter. A small sign sat next to the register, black ink handwritten on a piece of paper taped to part of an old box.  _ Be back in 5 minutes _ , it said, first in English and then in Spanish. She looked back to Eliot, shaking her head. 

“Nate, the clerk is checking the plumbing, I think.” 

“Alright, stay put.” Nate replied, and now there was a slight static underneath his voice. “We’ll be right there.” 

Sophie started to speak, but Hardison’s annoyed voice interrupted her. “You’re kidding me.” they heard him say. The static grew. 

“Nate, what’s the deal?” Eliot asked. He kept looking around the room, seeking threats that were not there. Something was going wrong. 

“Stand by,” was his only reply. The static reached a crescendo, before fading entirely. Eliot tapped his earpiece, and saw Sophie doing the same. Whatever had happened, their team had lost communications. 

“Something’s happened,” said Sophie. The worry had faded, now - she had broken her character and was in full grifter mode, prepared to improvise as needed. Eliot knew she was at her best when she was working without a net, so to speak. But that didn’t change the fact that they had no idea what was going on. 

Sophie’s phone buzzed, and she looked down. “It’s from Nate,” she read. “We’re ok. Reset your comms. Be there in 2 minutes.” 

“Two minutes, my ass.” replied Eliot, even as he reached up to reset the earpiece. “This time of day, in New York City? It’s at least a 20 minute trip.” The front door began to open, ringing a set of bells, and Eliot stood to get a better look. He had one of his textbooks in his hand, just in case he needed something heavy. 

A man walked in, wearing some sort of robes. His hands were in front of him, and something about them set Eliot on edge. The man was walking as if he expected to be attacked, and his hands were prepared for combat. His eyes scanned the room, before locking in on Eliot. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Eliot saw Sophie relax. “Nate?” she said, and Eliot saw Nate Ford walk into the deli. Parker followed him in, with Hardison lagging behind as he looked down at his phone.  

“It’s alright, Wong, they’re with us.” Nate looked around as he spoke, glancing over the counter and back into the kitchen. He picked up the sign on the counter, looking at it. “5 minutes, eh?” 

Eliot set down the textbook, and noted that ‘Wong’ seemed to relax a bit. “Who’s your friend, Nate?” 

Nate looked at Eliot, then at Wong. “Eliot, Sophie, this is Wong. He, um, well…” Nate trailed off, realizing that he had no idea how to explain. 

“I work in the neighborhood,” Wong said, easily. “This place has really good tea.” 

The front door opened again, and a man in a suit walked in. Behind him, a red cape seemed to be fastening itself to his collar. Eliot saw that the man’s suit was an expensive one - not the sort of thing that needed a flowing red cape as an accessory. 

“And this is my associate,” Wong said, indicating the man in the suit. “Doctor Stephen Strange.” Sophie saw Parker stifle a chuckle at the introduction, and reminded herself to ask about it later. 

Eliot looked at the clock, on the wall behind the counter. “That was a quick drive, Nate.” he said. 

Nate caught the hint. “Well, we kind of hitched a ride.” 

 

\-----

 

“We need to get to the deli,” said Nate. 

Strange nodded. “If they’re after something in the deli, that’s their next stop.” He turned to Parker. “Miss Parker, could you show me the storage room?” 

Without a word, Parker began leading them back down the hallway. Strange and Wong followed her, speaking quietly between themselves. Hardison found himself hanging back with Nate. 

“Magic, Nate?” He asked. 

Nate shrugged. “I saw a man play with his watch and brainwash an entire room. Parker saw a man walk into a locked room and disappear.” He glanced over at Hardison. “Let’s say I’m in firm benefit-of-the-doubt territory.” 

Hardison shook his head, loosening his tie as they walked. “So we’re going to just go with it?” 

“Looks that way,” Nate replied. “Eliot, is there anyone in the deli?” 

As they walked, Parker listened to the two… she wasn’t sure, yet, just what to call them.  _ Wizards? _ Their conversation was in hushed tones, but the urgency of their topic was obvious. 

“You’re sure we can trust them?” Wong asked. 

“I am, yes.” replied Strange. 

“You know they are thieves, right?” 

“Of course,” Strange said, as he got out his sling ring. “But they risked jail or worse to help Takahashi. They didn’t have to do that. And there’s no profit in it for them, no funds to pay for their services.” He looked at Wong. “I’ve got a good feeling about these people.” He ignored Wong’s eyeroll, as they had arrived at the supply room. Parker opened the door, and inside the room was much as they had left it - cluttered, but otherwise empty. 

“This is going to seem a bit odd.” Strange said, as his hands began to move in circular patterns in front of him. “I assure you, it’s perfectly safe.” 

Nate and Hardison stood in the doorway, watching as a ring of sparks began growing in the center of the room. “Stand by,” said Nate over comms. Hardison could already hear static in Eliot’s reply. 

As they watched, the ring expanded until it was tall enough for a person to walk through. On the other side of what Hardison could now see was a portal, there was an ancient-looking wood-paneled foyer. The beginnings of a staircase lay to the right, just out of sight. Parker leaned close, craning her neck as if she could see into the room beyond. 

“You’re kidding me,” said Hardison, simply. 

Seeing that no one else was going to go first, Wong stepped through the portal. They saw him walk into the foyer, continuing into that space. After just a few steps, he had traveled further than the walls of the supply closet would have allowed. He then turned, and beckoned the rest of the group with a grin. 

Parker was next, and as she stepped through the portal Hardison heard more static over his comms. But then he saw her turn around and give him a thumbs up. Nate walked through next, looking nervous as he passed the ring of sparks. 

“Mr. Hardison,” said Strange. He waved a hand toward the portal. There was no annoyance in his tone, as such, but he clearly meant to hurry things along. With a sigh, Hardison crossed himself. Then he stepped through the portal. 

Immediately, his ears popped - the air pressure had changed. Looking up, he saw that they were indeed in some sort of foyer. Two staircases led to a balcony and a second level. Paintings and statuary lined the walls, along with items that Hardison could not readily identify. The place felt ancient, even though the intricate woodwork on the paneled floor seemed brand new. 

Behind him, he heard Doctor Strange’s footsteps. Hardison turned around, just in time to see the ring of sparks collapse on itself. Strange adjusted his tie, then seemed to think for a moment. He grinned, and snapped his fingers, and a door opened onto the street. 

Wong arched an eyebrow at his friend. “Not going to change?” 

Strange grinned. “No time.” Then he looked thoughtful. “But why don’t you go ahead and take them down to the deli? I’ll be right behind you.” 

Wong nodded, and walked out onto the street. Nate followed. 

“The deli has to be at least… oh.” Nate’s voice trailed off, as he saw where they were. 

 

\-----

 

Nate’s all-too-brief explanation finished, he looked at Sophie and Eliot. They looked at him, then at Strange and Wong. Then at Nate again. 

“Unbelievable,” muttered Eliot. Sophie kept her eyes on Nate, and from his expression it was clear that much was being said in that look. 

Strange, meanwhile, was looking around the room. His hands were in front of him, and a blue glow appeared in front of his left hand. He pointed at the walls and the counter, and where his hand went a blue light followed, as if it were a flashlight of some sort. Hardison and Parker watched as he methodically searched the room. 

They could hear the annoyance in Strange’s voice when the light faded. “There’s nothing here.” Wong frowned, looking around the room himself. 

“Why do you need a deli,” Wong asked himself, “When you have magic powerful enough to control a room full of people.” His eyes fell on the floor, with its mismatched checkerboard tiles. His eyes grew wide, and he started moving tables out of the center of the room. Strange watched him, and then turned his wrists while pointing at the tables nearest him. 

As they watched, the remaining tables slid out of the way, all by themselves. Eliot rolled his eyes at the sight, but Nate stepped forward. Strange was kneeling at the center of the room, looking at the mismatched tiles. While the tiles at the edge of the room were a typical checkerboard, alternating white and black, the tiles in the center of the room were placed more haphazardly. There were also several green tiles, interspersed among the white and black. 

Nate leaned over Strange. “What do you see?” The Doctor looked up at him, smiling. 

“This pattern is a magical symbol.” he replied. Off Nate’s look of confusion, Strange stood up and waved his hand to indicate the deli. “There are places where magical energy is concentrated, where it can be harnessed. My home is one such place.” He pointed back to the symbol. “This deli was built on another.” 

“So what you’re saying,” asked Hardison, “is that we’re trying to help a guy keep his magical deli?” His voice dripped with confusion, and it was clear that he could not believe he was even asking the question. “And this Roth guy is trying to steal it?” 

Strange chuckled. “No, don’t be ridiculous.” He looked at Hardison. “This isn’t a magical deli. That would be silly.” He pointed at the floor. “Roth is just trying to steal the magic underneath.” 

“Oh,” said Hardison. He seemed to want to say more, but Parker’s hand on his elbow caused him to keep quiet. 

Nate stood up, and then sighed. “OK, gang,” he said. “I guess we’re going to have to steal… magic?” Wong and Strange looked at each other, as Eliot and Sophie rolled their eyes in unison. Nate shrugged. 


End file.
